family

Family can be our support system. Or they can be part of the problem. All about the complicated, loving, and difficult relationship with us and the ones who love us.

An Open Letter to the Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents
Dear “kids”, When did you realize you weren’t the problem? In therapy, I described living at home as living with a bear. A dormant bear. The only thing separating us was a flimsy wooden fence. A fence even the most delicate bear could easily hit down. The only way I could keep myself safe from the bear was to stay away from it. Far away from the fence. Be undetectable. Invisible.
By Lena Simons4 years ago in Psyche
FLUSH
When the toilet backed up I knew. Proof was the floating wads of sepia streaked tissue, heavily scented with feces/urine, and whatever else comes out of a body that takes in everything meant to destroy it.
By Kelly Girnas4 years ago in Psyche
Unrequited Narcissism
I grabbed my favorite glass from the cupboard. A short rocks glass engraved with the map of Los Angeles on it. It doesn’t carry a ton of meaning since I don’t really consider this city to hold any piece of my heart. Sure it’s got it’s perks and occasional luxuries, but it’s just another city. Tons of happy people, even more shitty people. Some of those overlap into both as well. But it’s just the right size glass and I feel Hemmingway-cool when I use it. Got ice from the fridge door and then grabbed my favorite gin. Very NOT Hemingway-cool. But he put some less than ideal things in his mouth. Mixed some diet tonic water and grabbed my grill tongs.
By Andrew Stutesman4 years ago in Psyche
The Mirror
She stood in front of me, I towered over her. I could swallow her whole and she wouldn’t even notice. Her hands aggressively pulled on her skin, squeezing the flesh between her fingers. Her pale skin left the imprint of her red fingertips, glaring at me for giving her such a monstrous body. I tried to apologize for the way I made her feel but she wouldn’t have it and went on struggling to make herself presentable for the day.
By Hannah C Lull4 years ago in Psyche
Becoming Undone When Coming Together
To describe my mental and visceral state after my college graduation was a blur; A cosmic mix of all emotion and none at all.
By TABAN🌞4 years ago in Psyche
The Legacy of My Parents
I always knew my mother was someone different from the other mothers. My father too was like that. Different. I have often thought that I hate those two people.
By Albert Sundve4 years ago in Psyche
Ideations
She was expended. Fully. She wrote her final list of thoughts to people whose names she marked with both first and last so messages would not be mixed. She left these valedictions on her antique roll-top desk, neatly stacked beneath a worry stone her therapist had given her four years ago when they went their separate ways. She placed a USB full of photos, things that her friends and family might want access to, next to the letters beneath the anxious rock. She piled what she figured to be about a week’s worth of food and water in ten bowls around the house for her two cats. She hoped that someone would discover her and the cats well before the food was up. She had stolen a Walther PPK from her friend's closet earlier that morning, having not only known where he kept it, but also that she shouldn’t take the easier to access Glock 19 in his nightstand.
By kp4 years ago in Psyche
The men my father set me up for.
There is something very important about being able to use real photos and talk about what really happened to you. As a survivor of child abuse, neglect, and abandonment, I now write about mental health and trauma to provide validation to those who have been through the same.
By Jaded Savior Blog4 years ago in Psyche
One Last Chance
My father called me a “foreigner” for being my brother’s friend. That made me unwelcome in my father’s eyes because my brother was gay. Dad kicked Andy out of the house in 1968 when he was 18. He went to live with another family, finished high school and, while trying to please his parents, he married and had two children.
By John Korkie4 years ago in Psyche
Taking the High Road
"Two road diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveller..." I led a double life...one most people either didn't realize or never really acknowledged. By day, I was a successful and happy computer professional and super parent. By night, and behind closed doors, I was a human shield to my littles and someone who was constantly depressed and miserable. I lived most of my adult life in active domestic abuse, though
By Laura Moseley4 years ago in Psyche
I Thought I Was Over My Mother's Murder
Hello, readers, assuming there are any readers actually out there. I started writing about my life – anonymously – a few months ago. I did it partly on the suggestion of my shrink, who knows I enjoy writing fiction (in fact I have an account on here that is not anonymous, in which I write short stories.) I've found it incredibly cathartic and in fact was even thinking “hey, I'm not even sure if I need to go back to him anymore. That's how good I feel!”
By Mytoxic Family4 years ago in Psyche
Chinese Jump Rope
When I was little my mother took me to the Pacific Ocean. She took me a week after birth. That is what my father told me. He said she sang to me about the waves. My first memory of us in the ocean is when I am around four or five. She is holding my hand and we are walking right into a wave. We go under and she’s smiling as bubbles go up. We come up for air and she carries me inside this cave where all these glowing things are under the water. She tells me they are lanterns for the mermaids and mermen. That we came from the ocean and if I look closely, I will see a mermaid.
By Haven 4 years ago in Psyche